Page 67 of The Saint

Amelia tossed her arm over her face. Her breathing was racing just like his. She pulled her arm away and turned so her cheek rested on the pillow. Her lips crooked, and with a smile he felt to his toes, she mouthed, “Wow.”

He laughed.Wowwas the best word for the moment, maybe the best word for this woman.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The morning sun coaxed Amelia awake. Camden was the first thing she noticed before her eyes opened to the new day. Despite the king-size mattress, they had navigated toward each other while sleeping. She was under the possessive grip of his arm and starting to panic.

Going to sleep hadn’t been a problem. Her brain had finally shut down under a mix of sheer bliss and exhaustion. That was so very gone, and for the moment, she wasn’t sure her brain was cognizant of the human need to fill her lungs with oxygen. Each breath required a litany of mental commands that were normally involuntary. But while she was pinned next to the sexiest man she’d ever touched, managing to inhale was a serious effort. Even when she did, her lungs demanded more oxygen than she’d quietly tried to suck down. Exhaling wasn’t much better. Each exhalation somehow sounded like she was a linebacker grunting through the Super Bowl.

If she could escape without waking Camden, Amelia could hide in the bathroom and plan her next move. How had everything seemed so simple before they’d had sex? She’d wanted what she’d wanted and been up front. He’d checked the precursory boxes to make sure she was absolutely, positively ready to fuck and then proceeded to nail her brains out.

Amelia rolled onto her side—he rolled too and pulled her close. Shit. How the hell was she going to escape when she was officially a little spoon? And oh God, was he an amazing Big Spoon or what? Mountains of muscles enveloped her in a sinful warmth. His lips brushed the back of her bare shoulder, and an erratic explosion detonated in her chest. Breathing was overrated.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

She almost laughed at how sleep-drenched his voice was, and she would have if not for the intoxicatingly gruff way he sounded. The scratchy timbre worked over her skin as a ripple of goosebumps shivered down her limbs. She should say something pithy and cute, something that would relay how casual everything should still feel, but absolutely zilch came to mind. Nothing but a low-key hum of awareness blanketed her thoughts.

A sexy rumble of quiet laughter shook in his chest. Camden slept sexily. He laughed sexily. Everything about him was sexy. And she didn’t even have her own clothes or a hairbrush. He was holding onto the opposite of sexy. Why didn’t she see how complicated this would be?

The muffled chirp of his phone rang.

Camden groaned. He reached onto the floor, snagged his pants, and answered the phone with a quick, “Yeah? What?” He grimaced and sat up against the headboard. “Yeah, I was.” Whoever had called wasn’t Camden’s favorite person. Tension ticked in his jaw. “Yeah, we’ll be there.”

He caught her eye with an apologetic wince, and Amelia understood who was on the phone. “Beth?” she mouthed.

Camden raised his chin.

Well, at least Amelia didn’t have to come up with morning-after small talk. She rolled toward the side of the bed. Still on the phone with Beth, he snagged her arm, said goodbye, and tossed the phone aside. Camden scrutinized her face. “You good?”

Her eyebrows arched. Of all the things he might say, that wasn’t what she would’ve guessed. Amelia nodded.

“Gotta tell me, sweetheart. Either way, I want to hear the truth.”

“I’m good.”

His chin lifted almost imperceptibly, as though he was clocking what she said and whether he believed her. “And we’re good?”

“Of course,” she said too quickly. But it was the truth. She didn’t feel pressured or taken advantage of or anything that should raise red flags. But the truth was also that she felt…somethingthat she didn’t have a name for. Hell, she couldn’t even describe it. It was just a tension that went beyond her forgetting how to breathe.

He’d said “we’re” as if they were awe, as in a couple—temporarily. She needed to remember they were time-boxed into a peculiar situation. They weren’t friends with benefits. They weren’t fuck buddies. She’d asked for a distraction, and he’d given her much more than she’d bargained for.That… was the indescribable unknown.

His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

She had no idea but wouldn’t share that little secret. “Last night was a lot of fun.”To put it mildly.“Glad you came to your senses and decided it was a good idea.”

The corners of his eyes twitched. “Glad I did too.”

He let her escape, and stealing the top sheet, she covered her body and retreated to the living room, where her clothes still lay on the floor. Instead of grabbing them, she headed to the kitchen in search of caffeine options.

An electric kettle and a Keurig sat on the counter, and she could have dropped to her knees in praise that she didn’t have to suffer through instant coffee. The K-cups offered an assortment of options from tea to mocha to dark roast. She chose a medium roast with a pretty label and brewed two mugs of coffee. She would retrieve her clothes after delivering his mug to him.

Camden stepped out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around his lean waist just above the world’s mostdangerous V-cut of muscles. The coffee mugs shook in her hands for a second before she pulled herself together.

“I have caffeine.”

He ignored the mugs and eyed the precariously wrapped sheet tucked into place. “Fuck, you make it hard to focus on work.”

Her cheeks heated, and when he stalked forward, she didn’t know if the coffees would be tossed aside. But, smart man that he was, he set them on the nightstand and returned to her, tipping her chin up and slanting his mouth over hers. The clean scent of soap and his minty mouth was irresistible—until she remembered that she needed a toothbrush and a quick rinse. “I have to take a shower,” she said against his lips.

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